Thirty Seven, a number I have hated for years

Thirty Seven, a number I have hated for years

My thirty-seventh birthday was probably the worst birthday ever for me; I dreaded that day all year leading up to it. For some reason the psychological trauma of knowing I was that close to being forty years old hit me when I was turning thirty-seven. I had no problems at thirty-six, but once thirty-seven hit I was a wreck.

I am now forty-two years old and it is no big deal; I kind of like the idea of being that old. In fact if I were turning thirty-seven this year, I don't know if I would even be alive. If I were turning thirty-seven this year then that would mean that I would have been born on July 19th of 1973 and I just don't believe I would have ever made it to my birth day.

I have always know that I was born out of wedlock and that my mother went through some rough times when she was pregnant with me. What I did not know until this year is that my grandparents were so ashamed of my mother that they sent her away to a home in San Francisco until she gave birth, so no one would know she was pregnant. I was always told my mom was on vacation in San Francisco and that is why I was born there; I never knew how unwanted I really was.

So what if the year were 1973 instead of 1967? What if my mother told my grandparents about me just after January 22, of 1973? If my grandparents were willing to send my mother away to be alone and scared for months, would they have been willing to just "get it taken care of"? In my heart I truly believe that if my mother were pregnant with me in 1973, I would have never been born.

Next week marks year thirty-seven of legalized child killing in America: not an anniversary we should be proud of. Thirty-seven years ago our Supreme Court handed down the most deadly and bloody decision in our nation's history. Thirty-seven years ago the bloodshed began as the Abortion Holocaust raged forward leaving the a path of death, pain and utter devastation in its path.

So here we are thirty-seven years later and I can sit in my office dumbfounded as I have to get ready for another year of fighting for the most basic of all human rights: the right to life. I am almost sick to my stomach as I think about another year of excuses as to why God's people remain silent and comfortable in their apathy. I dread the comments I will read from so called Christian leaders about how we just need to find that common ground: that abortion is just a fact of life and we might as well accept that it is here to stay. If I hear one more person tell me they don't want to be actively pro-life because it is just too controversial and they don't want to offend anyone I might just vomit on the spot.

I never thought I could hate the number thirty-seven more than I already did, but now that we are approaching the thirty -seventh anniversary of the Abortion Holocaust I have found a new disdain for the number. I know that next Friday as I stand in the middle of hundreds of thousands of people marching to the Supreme Court at the annual March for Life, I will be fighting back the tears.

I know that as I approach that building where those nine men played God and redefined what a human person is, I will probably have clinched fists as I choke back the anger. I know that if they had made that decision 6 years earlier, I would probably not have had the opportunity to stand and fight for those who weren't as lucky as me.

You know where I will be next Friday, January 22; now I want to know where you will be? I know not everyone can make it to Washington D.C., but I do know you can take a stand wherever you might be. So where will you be? What will you be doing next Friday as the Abortion Holocaust turns thirty-seven years old? Will you take a stand next Friday and be a voice for those who will never have a chance to have one?

Here are some simple ideas for you to do on Friday, January 22nd:

1. Go to Washington D.C. to the March for Life

2. Find out of there will be a local March for Life in your area. I know for sure there will be one in San Francisco

3. Go to your local abortion mill and hold a prayer vigil with your friends and church

4. Ask your pastor to hold a candlelight prayer vigil

I am sure there are thousands of things you can do, the point is to do something.

For Christ I stand,

Bryan Kemper

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